Chapter 8: Footsteps in the Mist
The safehouse went completely dark as the circuit breaker was tripped from the outside. The sudden blackness was suffocating.
"Stay down," Ramos whispered, drawing her service weapon and moving toward the side window.
Clara immediately crawled into Maya’s bedroom, placing a hand gently over her daughter’s mouth before she could cry out in confusion. "Shh, baby. It's Mom. Stay under the bed. Do not come out no matter what you hear."
Outside, heavy footsteps crunched on the gravel driveway. The porch floorboards creaked under the weight of more than one person. Thomas hadn't come alone; his buyers had tracked his phone before he ditched it, following the trail straight to the safehouse.
A low, gravelly voice echoed from the porch. "Ramos! We know you're in there. We just want the drive. Throw it out the front door and you get to see tomorrow morning."
Ramos didn't answer. She took position behind the reinforced kitchen counter, aiming at the entry points.
May you like
Clara looked around the darkened bedroom. She couldn't just hide and wait for bullets to fly. She noticed the old fire escape window leading out to the roof overhang. If she could get Maya onto the roof, they could reach the attached barn and the auxiliary generator.
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